The Fight for Freedom
by insertcleverandwittytitlehere
Summary: Harry Potter was not dead. No one knew that yet, except for Narcissa Malfoy, and she could feel the weight of her lie pressing in around her. It was suffocating.


**This is the Chudley Cannons Captain checking in for Round 10, Season 7 of the QLFC.**

**Prompt: **Kill them or save them.

I chose **Lucius Malfoy**.

**Word count (before A/N): **1,886 words

**I am not JK. I merely dabble.**

* * *

Narcissa's heart beat in time with the marching of the Dark Lord's army, pounding loudly, _thump thump, _as each foot fell.

Harry Potter was not dead.

No one knew that yet, except for her, and she could feel the weight of her lie pressing in around her. It was suffocating.

But worth it. It had to be worth the panic rising in her throat if it meant getting to Draco. Nothing else mattered, not even His plans. Not anymore.

The Dark Lord was laughing, praising himself for his deeds. Bellatrix clung to every word. Once, her sister's face looked so much like their mother's, Narcissa couldn't tell them apart. But now, still sallow from her time in Azkaban, warped by her hate and her quest for power, Bellatrix looked more like a sickly imprint of what their mother once was. Like a sad sigh passing by in the wind.

Narcissa closed her eyes for a second.

She had lost so much.

First Andromeda left. Then her mother died and Bellatrix went to prison. She thought she found love in Lucius, but her desire soon faded. Narcissa was content for a while with her cozy life and a son to dote on, but her husband's ambitions and desire for notoriety drove their whole family into darkness. She lost her home, her husband was imprisoned, her son held as collateral. Her freedom was all but a myth.

But maybe, just maybe, it would soon end.

They were in front of the castle now, lining up behind the body of the Chosen One. Just a boy. Draco's age.

Narcissa had to remind herself that Harry Potter was still alive. His act was convincing, certainly, but she could still spot the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he took in tiny breaths. She had to keep watching him, because when Harry Potter made his move so would she.

Seconds after Harry slipped away under what Narcissa could only presume was an invisibility cloak, she fell from the ranks, slipping behind the crowd of Death Eaters and making her way to the castle as inconspicuously as she possibly could. Her eyes scanned the crowd huddled around the fallen walls of Hogwarts, desperate to find even just the hint of her son.

Then all hell broke loose.

Someone spotted Harry's body was missing. The fighting resumed, spells flying across the open space, the very air electric with magic and adrenaline.

"To hell with this," she muttered, hoisting up her robes and dashing toward the building. She held her wand at the ready but swore to herself she wouldn't use it unless absolutely necessary. Whichever way this war ended, she was likely to be ostracized by both sides. The least she could do was fight smart.

"Draco?" she called, hopping over the rubble that used to be the main entrance to the castle. Tiny granules of red and green, purple and yellow sand littered the floor. Narcissa's eyes immediately landed on the hourglasses that tallied house points each term. All four were shattered. She turned on her heel, her feet leading her away from the struggles of the Great Hall. She could barely hear herself think over the screams piercing through the dawn.

Draco had to be here. He just had to.

A hand wrapped around the top of her arm, its knuckles brushing against her torso. In an instant, Narcissa felt her body be whipped around before she could utter a spell to protect herself. Narcissa raised her free hand, but it froze in midair when her eyes landed on her husband's face.

"Lucius!"

She threw herself into his arms.

Years had passed since she last did this, but her whole body was grateful to have found _someone_ familiar. Even him, the man who got their family into this mess.

But he was here, alive and whole. Warmth spread across her chest at the thought of finding even this small part of her family. Halfway there, she thought.

"Where's Draco?" she shouted over the chaos. Lucius pulled her in closer.

"Draco," she repeated, but her words seemed to land on deaf ears.

"What happened?"

"What?"

"What happened!"

He wasn't asking.

Narcissa could feel Lucius's fingers gripping into her skin, could feel the bruises already forming up and down her arms.

When she first met Lucius, he had had this glow to him, like an angel come to life. He had been tall, rugged. A Quidditch player. And he had had this ridiculous obsession with gelling his hair back. But she loved the way it felt, hard on the outside like a protective shell, but once she got her fingers through, it was like silk.

Lucius was like that—a hard exterior few could crack. Narcissa had had to claw her way into his heart, kicking and screaming. She saw what Lucius had, saw the life his family worked to get, and she wanted in.

She loved his smile at first, the way the corners of his lips inched up ever so slightly like he knew something no one else ever would. And she loved the way his skin always smelled earthy, like amber or evergreen trees.

When they married—a revered Pureblood match throughout the Sacred Twenty-Eight—she quickly learned Lucius never actually smiled; he smirked. Over time, he just scowled. As their home and family name fell into disarray, the evergreen-scent grew stronger, masking the undertones of Firewhiskey.

Now, in the Great Hall, in the middle of everything, she could still smell the hint of forest. But so much else had changed.

Lucius gripped her harder, shaking her.

"Tell me what happened out there!"

"He—he came!" She shook her head, trying to calm the frantic patter running through her brain. They didn't have time for this! Draco was around here somewhere, fighting for his life. _They _were fighting for their lives!

"Harry Potter came," she continued, struggling to get the words out. "The Dark Lord, he killed him. Again. But not really. I don't understand it, but he lived."

Lucius scowled, the age lines in his face deepening like scars. He leaned in close, his breath hot and stale against her face. "Dolohov said _you_ checked the body," Lucius spat. "So. What. Happened."

Fire burned in the back of Lucius' eyes. Narcissa felt cold sweat break out across the back of her shoulders and down her neck, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breathing.

"I—"

"You." Lucius' eyes were like two hot coals.

Within seconds, his hands fell from her arms, instead wrapping around her throat. Both his thumbs pressed into the hollow part above her collarbone, and suddenly all Narcissa could see was white light. All she could hear was the quickened pace of her heart beating against her eardrums, desperate to get out.

Her wand dropped from her hand.

"You let him get away," Lucius was snarling somewhere in the distance. She clawed at his hands as he forced her onto the ground, her back hitting the stone floor with a jolt. Narcissa wheezed beneath his grasp, kicking with all her strength as Lucius' body straddled hers.

_Not like this_, she prayed. She wasn't a religious person, but in that very moment, she hoped something, anything, would hear her pleas.

_Any way but this_.

There was another streak of light across her vision, and for one moment Narcissa thought that it was over. She let her eyes slide shut, the dark a welcome reprieve from the blinding white.

Then air flooded its way into her lungs, filling each so fast she thought they might burst. Her eyes flew open again and color crashed down on her. Yellows and blues. Streaks of red and green. Black robes fluttered by, as a small ball of blue light bounced around. The battle fell into place around her, hazy in the dim light of dawn.

Lucius was gone. Narcissa cupped gently at the sensitive skin around her neck, unable or unwilling to process how she'd gotten there. Scrambling, she rolled over onto her hands and knees, her eyes searching for her husband, certain he would return.

Instead she felt a protective arm rest around her shoulders.

"Mum?"

Her eyes met Draco's—her baby boy—and tears sprang to her eyes. He was alive!

"Drac—"

She began coughing, the words sticking in her throat like caramel. Draco helped her to her feet, worry etched into the soft lines of his face. She reached to stroke back his hair, her mind no longer caught on the thought of dying.

Her baby boy was here.

Draco had been a determined child, she remembered, so focused on learning how to walk that by seven months he was tumbling over himself, desperate to be a free agent. And with every fall, she'd hoist him back up to his feet, place a gentle kiss on his temple, and watch him try all over again.

Draco slipped an arm through her own, their roles reversed for the first time. She could feel the soft skin of his lips graze the edge of her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"No, darling," she grabbed his hand.

"Well isn't this lovely," Lucius staggered back into view. Narcissa felt her whole body tense, each bone locking into place. Draco stepped in front of her, guarding her with his body. His hand slipped from hers as well, instead falling to his side as he angled his body for a duel.

"You won't touch her."

Lucius laughed.

"This is all your fault!" Draco yelled.

That shut his father up. Lucius blinked at the two of them, his eyes dangerous as he looked between the pair. His lip pulled back into a snarl, "My fault? Mine! Maybe you should ask your damned mother why this is happening. Why the Chosen One is even alive!"

It was subtle, but Narcissa saw the moment her son faltered. Caught off guard by his father's taunts, his wand hand dipped just a fraction. It was enough.

Draco's wand flew from his hand as Lucius' nonverbal spell hit its mark. Her own wand was wrested in the older Malfoy's hand.

"I'll teach you to hex me!"

The next thing Narcissa knew, Lucius was on top of Draco, his hands once again wrapped around his neck.

"No!" Narcissa wailed, but despite her kicking and tugging at Lucius, she couldn't find the strength to get him off her son.

"Please," she begged. "_Please_!"

But nothing seemed to get through.

Draco's face was ashen, the blood draining as he struggled against his father's grip. Narcissa knew if she didn't do something soon, she'd lose him.

And she was done losing.

Just inches from her feet sat Draco's wand. Narcissa clutched it, aiming it directly at her husband's back. She shouted her spell, a green light flashing brighter than the rising sun. Lucius dropped instantly.

Narcissa dropped the wand as Draco scrambled away.

"Mum?" His eyes were filled with fear.

"Come, Draco," she held out a hand to him. "Come."

He took it, rising to his feet, stepping over Lucius' body. She pulled Draco close, her brain no longer a frantic mess as she surveyed the battle still raging around them.

It wasn't over, but for Narcissa and her son, they'd already won.

Finally, she was free.


End file.
